as
he played Shorters As Far As the Eye Can See over Brakhages Anticipation of
Night he watched stunning reflections run across the face of greasy street
puddles:
Heinous
questions were provisioned for a greenleafed lion who stared at a yellow stone
monolith Etched against the horizon and retched
a
spool of brown flypaper was lashed around a manshead as he hung from an iron
ceiling fixture and twisted in a breathless room
outside
kids playing flashlight tag accidentally caught sight of him
they saw
his grotesque distended face through a transom window through sheer chiffon
curtains
on
the houses stoop pumpkins had rotted and collapsed
horrified
as they fled they dropped their burning flashlights so not to be pursued like
summer fireflies
one
if they wished could retrace where the children ran through the small
neighborhood across the wet sprinkled lawns the fallen elms leaves that begged
raking their frantic footprints tread across concrete walks and through broken fence
gates that they yanked in terror their
imaginations grimly feverishly chasing them
McLeans
Floogeh over Mothlight had been overrun and spliced with Black Ice
a
very small Asian woman sat stoically behind a rubyred parasol and stabbed at it
with her bone chopsticks
the
Black Ice reared then swept over her and ossified her body then pulled her
apart like separating tectonic plates her
torso gravitated with her bound feet her
hips split off and with her separated shoulders got hungup and caught fast they mouldered then exploded like seeding
puffballs
Sonny
played S for Sonny for Dantes Quartet!!! and in a mailbox at the streets edge a
two-cent stamp on an Air Mail envelope was going nowhere fast
a
gunshot!a white phosphorescent jellyfish exploded in the curling face of a
wave a host of hands eagerly clutched at the edges of an
monstrousoyster
On
the count of three was cried One . . Two . .Three
they
pulled it apart and ransacked its guts for a black pearl they were told it held
the
soothsayer arriving late muttered What have you done What have you done while
the bellplayers who walked behind him maintained a reverent distance
they
arrived anticipating a celebratory Mass not
a mass-murder they fled over the tops of one another and slipped in the
slaughters morass before descending into a garden where they found a young
birds burial path laid out in stones
an
anemic chimp played in a crooked way No Blade Too Sharp
no
beak too bleak
crying
for a Rite of Passage
while
a quintet of xrayed skulls once hanging lighted on a whitewashed wall took
their bleached look and crawled off towards a laundry washing machine to put
away the evenings stain
0144, Friday, 14 12. 12
transscribbled 1234, Day-between-Two-Ts, 30 11. 16
